King's Exile
by Cybra
Summary: Part two of the Journey of the King trilogy. Torn between his duties as Keybearer and king, Mickey must leave his people in order to save them. Rating for language, eventual slash. Two new chapters uploaded.
1. Prologue: The Destiny Islands

King's Exile

By Cybra

**A/N:** And so begins the second part of "The Journey of the King" trilogy. My sister finally got the _Official Strategy Guide_ back so I can look at the map of the Destiny Islands. Now I won't have to fudge on locations so much. Aren't you so happy?

**Special Thanks:** To Vyse, my beta reader. Where would I be without you?

**Disclaimer:** _Kingdom Hearts_ belongs to Squaresoft and the Walt Disney Company. _The Great Mouse Detective_ and the _Basil of Baker Street Mysteries_ belong to the Walt Disney Company and the late Eve Titus respectively. The original name of "Sherringford" for Basil's first name belongs to Mlle. Irene Relda.

Prologue: The Destiny Islands

Sweat-matted fur was never a pleasant feeling. Not only did it tangle, it took forever to dry and the smell clung to it for hours no matter _how_ short it was.

However, fur and sweat were the furthest things from the black-furred mouse's mind as the swarm of shadows continually leapt at him and his taller companion. Again and again, he slashed with his golden blade, sending each Heartless back to Kingdom Hearts. Hopefully, there it would be given a heart and reborn as a new creature on a new world.1

The black mouse watched his tan companion freeze two of the shadows with a hastily-cast spell out of the corner of his eye before the tan mouse kicked them with his foot, shattering them. Though his friend carried no weapon, the taller one still proved to be quite a foe for the Heartless.

The shorter mouse caught the tan one's green eyes, and the tan mouse nodded. They would try to make a run for the Keyhole's location. They whirled suddenly, surprising the ant-headed Heartless, and raced away from the small island and across the wooden bridge to the larger island.

Glancing over his shoulder, the black mouse cursed as the Heartless began to pursue. At the sound of a cast spell, he looked ahead to see three Heartless disappear in flames. He swore again.

Preparing his blade, he charged forward to meet two more Heartless as they tried to attack him and his friend.

His taller companion kept pace easily, offering with only a motion of the eyes to take the Heartless on the right.

The armed mouse nodded and focused on the Heartless on the left.

The black mouse slashed just as the tan mouse pounced. The Heartless were dispatched quickly and efficiently by both mice. The shadow on the left had been hacked into two pieces. The one on the right met a nasty fate of being physically beaten by a magically enhanced creature.

Neither mouse stopped to inspect the other's handiwork. Instead, both finished off their opponents and continued on their way.

The black mouse panted and released one hand from his blade in order to hastily wipe sweat from his brow. The salty liquid had started to drip into his eyes which forced his eyes tears to form in order to expel the foreign liquid. The tears had, in turn, caused his vision to blur. A very dangerous handicap in such a situation.

His muscles burned with the effort. He had been involved in this fight for quite some time already. Yet it was not because of his body that he felt the need to finish this fight. Every second of delay brought this world another second closer to its ultimate destruction.

He had sworn to himself that he would not let another world die because of his foolishness and he was going to keep that promise.

Upon their reaching the other shore, Heartless rose from the sand, trying to stop the two mice.

The pair did not hesitate a second. In an attack pattern that had become increasingly familiar to them, the taller one dashed forward first, closely followed by the shorter one. The tan mouse fired three fireballs forward.

The Heartless easily dodged them. However, this was planned.

The taller mouse jumped up, flipping backwards, as the black mouse threw his golden blade towards them. It spun as if it were a boomerang, slicing into the swarm. The black mouse caught the golden blade on its return trip as he ran forward, the tan mouse running behind him.

The black mouse leapt off of the edge of the raised platform towards the waterfall. He could feel the Keyhole pulling him towards some hidden location in that direction. But where was—

Joy, relief, and welcome in an alien, golden flood overwhelmed his senses. It all translated to one silently shouted word: _Sister!_

The black-furred one lost his concentration. A shed seemed to appear out of nowhere beneath him. His large feet struck the roof, and his left knee slammed into the corner as he tumbled over the edge. He cussed loudly as he fell with a complete lack of grace and landed in the pool beneath the waterfall with a loud _ker-splash!_

The chill of the water felt good to his abused knee. Still, it ached as he swam back to the surface.

His sensitive ears heard the _splash_ of his companion joining him in the water. The taller mouse surfaced a few seconds later beside him and held him up as he cast Curaga to help heal the damage. It would not do to have the injury become something worse in the heat of battle because he ignored it.

They swam swiftly towards the shore, pulling themselves out of the water. Their wet clothing and sopping fur made the task a bit more difficult than it should have been.

An enormous Heartless loomed over the beach but it seemed more interested in a figure that was running between its legs and striking its weak spot: its hand. It ignored the two mice that were making their way towards the small alcove behind the massive tree.

The black mouse paused for a moment as his eyes seemed to take on a life of their own and focused on the figure currently holding the Heartless's attention. For the briefest of moments, the figure came close enough that the mouse could make him out even in the current darkness.

The figure was a teenage boy with wild hair. In his hand was a large silver key with a golden handle, a reverse image of the weapon that the black mouse himself carried.

His eyes now obeyed his commands again, and he turned them to focus in the direction that he wanted to go. Giving a silent wish of good luck to the other Keybearer, the black mouse led the way into the alcove, following a tunnel to a cave with a door at the other end. On the floor of the cave were the footprints of his hated enemy.

The Keyhole obediently appeared on the door.

The tan mouse turned to guard the passageway as the black mouse focused his attention on the Keyhole. Raising the Golden Keyblade, the shorter mouse watched as the familiar beam of light struck the Keyhole and heard the well-known _click_ echo in the small cave.

The world darkened now with the comforting darkness of a sleeping world that would not die. The taller mouse came over to stand by his shorter friend. They stood side-by-side as the tan mouse reached over and tapped something on the black mouse's wrist.

The pair vanished as the world around them sent its people away to where they would be safe as it slept.

* * *

1 What really _does _happen to a Heartless when it is destroyed? Does anyone know? 


	2. The Last Day

King's Exile

By Cybra

**Suggested Music:** "The Journey to the West" from _Princess Mononoke _(the _Symphonic Suite_), "Oceanic" from Bond's _Born_, "The Promise" from _Pure Moods_

**Special Thanks:** To Vyse, my beta-reader. Thank you for all of your hard work._  
_

**Disclaimer: **_Kingdom Hearts_, _The Great Mouse Detective_, and the _Basil of Baker Street Mysteries_ belong to Square, the Walt Disney Company, and the late Eve Titus respectively. The original name of "Sherringford" for Basil's first name belongs to Mlle. Irene Relda.

Chapter 1: The Last Day

To the casual observer, there might not have been anything special about Mickey had it not been for the castle around him. He always chose to wear the most practical and least decorative finery the Magic Kingdom had to offer. Only on the most important of occasions did he follow through the long traditions of pomp and circumstance that his wife always went through. He tended to treat both nobleman and commoner as his equals. When he was not working or resting, he spent his time training and improving his swordsmanship.

Still, the citizens of the Magic Kingdom had grown accustomed to their king's little oddities. Perhaps they suspected that these were side effects of bearing the Keyblade.

The king sighed as he leaned against the balcony, taking a load off of his sore left knee.

"I come bearing tidings from our dear Royal Physician," an accented voice greeted from behind, more than a hint of mockery in his formal words.

Mickey smiled. "What?"

Sherringford Basil, formerly a detective of another—now obliterated—world, now a Summons, strolled up beside the king. The taller mouse folded his hands neatly behind his back, tail lashing with good humor. "He demands you get down to see him so he can take a look at your knee. He doesn't trust Curaga."

With a laugh, the king said, "It's just a little sore."

"This is fortunate considering that spectacular fall you took. Thank you for the near heart attack."

"I thought you'd like it." The black mouse winced and rubbed his knee. "Whose brilliant idea was it to put a shed there anyway?"

"Haven't the foggiest."

The light banter was important. It was good to know that despite the odds, that world—though sleeping—was safe. On top of that, he had walked away. Some of the more fur-raising adventures had ended with this same good-natured banter. It helped him stay sane.

Saving the worlds was not all fun and games.

However, today Mickey could not let himself sink completely into the wordplay. He needed to talk with the Summons.

"Basil, I think I just need to stretch my knee. How 'bout a walk in the maze?"

The tan mouse did not bat an eyelash. "Certainly."

The walk to the maze itself was rather uneventful. Knights of the kingdom stood at attention as the king passed and stood just a bit straighter at his smile and wave.

Upon entering the maze, Basil chuckled. "They adore you. Shows what they know."

Mickey punched him in the arm. "I don't need you harassing me. I have people sending letters _begging_ to come and harass me."

"Yes, but you prefer _me_ harassing you."

Giving the Summons a look out of the corner of his eye, Mickey chose not to respond. He was actually unsure of _how_ to respond to that statement and did not know what would come out if he tried to.

Instead, he said, "I need to talk to you about leaving."

Basil's mood sobered. The last time this had been discussed was six months ago. "Minnie?"

"Doesn't seem like any change, and I'm sick of waiting on her stupid biological clock to start working on the right schedule. Being reactive is getting everyone nowhere. It's time I get going."

The Summons grew quiet, contemplative. "When?"

"Tonight."

"Then I'll need to enlist Dawson."

The king shook his head. "The fewer people who know, the better."

"Mickey, I wasn't given curative magic by the Realm, remember? If you're injured and unconscious, what do I do?" Basil's tail swished impatiently. "Dawson can equip us with medical supplies and show me what to buy to replace them. However, he'll want to know what they're for."

In a silent admission of defeat, Mickey bowed his head. "Fine. But only Dawson." He raised his head to stare into Basil's green eyes. "We'll take the Basic Gummi. Nobody will miss it until they realize we're gone."

_"You're_ gone, you mean," Basil teased. "I'm just a Summons."

"I'm sure they'll notice you're gone since you won't be causing trouble." As the tan mouse feigned hurt, Mickey said, "We'll meet in the gummi ship hangar at eleven thirty. The security sweep is at—"

"—midnight. I remember." Basil paused. "What about provisions?"

Mickey paused. The original plan was to stock up in Traverse Town. However, munny did not grow on trees. "On second thought, we may need to employ Mrs. Judson, too."

"Good idea."

They exited the maze, walked across the lavish gardens, and re-entered the castle together. Once inside the safety of the Disney Castle, Mickey bid his friend "goodbye" and went hunting for the landlady-turned-housekeeper.

* * *

Basil poked his head into the Healer's Wing of the castle. "Knock, knock." 

Dr. David Q. Dawson looked up from the potion he was brewing for Healer Tyler. "Hello again, Basil. Where's King Mickey?"

"Running errands."

The doctor gave a "harrumph" and shook his head. "Basil, I want to look at that knee."

"I'll be sure to drag him in here the next time I see him," the Summons promised. "Still, I need your expert advice."

Dawson glanced down at the potion to check it before giving his friend a questioning look. "What is it?"

Basil flicked his eyes about to make sure nobody was listening. "What medical supplies would you bring for a long journey, and how do you recognize them if you need to replace them?"

Dawson's eyebrows shot to the ceiling. "Give me a minute to finish this, and then we'll talk."

Basil nodded and watched lazily as Dawson added some white powder to the dark green potion. The liquid fizzed and popped before turning a bright green.

The good doctor was only doing the preliminary work on a batch of Potion. Healer Tyler would have to add the magic to it since Dawson had no healing magic (or any magic for that matter) at all.

Despite his magic deficiency, the healers respected the Royal Physician. Using traditional methods, Dawson had helped lighten the healers' workload in addition to treating those patients who were afraid of magical healing faster than when a traditional doctor had to be sent for.

Dawson covered the pot. "It'll need to simmer for about an hour." He looked at Basil and beckoned the Summons with a wave of his hand. "Let's talk in my office."

Basil followed the doctor to a small, organized room. A small smile lighted on his lips as he saw the papers neatly stacked on the good doctor's desk. How had Dawson survived living amongst his disorganization?

A name on one of the papers caught his eye. "The queen?"

"Stomach trouble. She's coming back tomorrow to see Master Healer Zachary. I couldn't find anything out of the ordinary but suggested that she see one of the healers to make sure. If she has anything more serious than a stomachache, Zachary will find what I can't see. And what on earth are you snickering about?"

"I'm sorry, Dawson. It's just with all of those titles, you don't expect ordinary names."

The doctor chuckled a little. "I understand. With a title like 'Master Healer,' you would think his name would be something fantastic, not common like 'Zachary.'"

"This kingdom has a king named 'Mickey,' a head mage named 'Donald,' and a captain of the guard named 'Goofy.' It's almost as if the entire kingdom's backwards." The Summons grinned. "Do you suppose the baker's name is 'Randolph the Second'?"

The pair stared at each other for a full minute before laughing at the absurdity of the idea. It took ten minutes for them to calm down since glancing at each other sparked new fits of laughter.

Taking a calming breath, Dawson asked, "Basil, why do you need to know what to bring and buy for a field medical kit?"

Basil sighed. The doctor had struck right to the heart of the matter. Though he tended to downplay his role in their adventures, Dawson was no fool. "Because Mickey and I are going on a trip and don't know when we'll be back."

The doctor stared. "He's leaving?"

The Summons nodded. "Things are getting worse, not better. We're barely fighting the Heartless to a constant stalemate. And you've seen the toll it's taken on Mickey."

Dawson nodded. He had seen. The constant stress of ruling a kingdom and locking Keyholes had left the king in a frightful state some weeks before. The poor mouse had practically dragged himself out of his sickbed to lock a Keyhole in a desert. Both Dawson and the healers had had a rough time bringing him back to his feet after that.

"Mickey thinks—and I agree—that the best thing to do is act offensively. However Ansem—" Basil spat the name "—will notice if a host of guards and healers come along to make sure the king's all right."

"But wouldn't the scoundrel notice because of the Keyblade?"

Basil shrugged. "It might take him a while now that a second Keyblade's here."

Dawson gaped. "A second? I hadn't heard about that!"

"That's because nobody knows. Dawson, you have to keep this a secret."

"I won't tell a soul. What exactly do you two plan to do?"

"Your guess is as good as mine. Mickey hasn't given me all the details yet."

"All right. I'd better fetch that kit for you." Dawson paused. "Basil, be careful."

The old caution did not fall on deaf ears. Locked Keyhole or not, if Mickey died, not only was a kingdom without a king, but the other Keybearer might not be able to stop Ansem alone.

Yet there was also that strange note of the warning that Basil had heard once before: back at 221B Baker Street when Mickey, Donald, and Goofy were spending the night. Just like then, Basil paused to consider what it meant before finally answering with a simple "I will."

Just like then, the doctor sighed as both left the office.

* * *

The castle, Mickey decided not for the first time in his life, was entirely too big. 

This was the third time he had been directed to where the Scotswoman had whisked herself off to. He quickened his pace, hoping to meet up with her before she moved on to somewhere else. His knee throbbed, and he made a mental note to drop by the Healer's Wing to see Dawson.

At last, the mouse woman he sought came into view. He walked up to her, and the maid Mrs. Judson was speaking to excused herself.

"Mrs. Judson?"

She turned and curtseyed. "Yes, Your Majesty."

Unlike one of her former tenants, Mrs. Judson bowed to centuries of tradition when dealing with the king. It was a habit she only broke when she acted particularly motherly towards him, like during those weeks of his illness.

"May I speak to you in private?"

"Of course."

She automatically abandoned her duties but took the arm he offered after only a slight hesitation. It did not take too long for the pair to walk down the long and stately hallway until Mickey's ears told him that they were out of earshot of anyone. A good thing, too, for playacting that his knee was giving him no trouble was growing increasingly more difficult.

Mrs. Judson frowned and released his arm. "You should see Doctuh Dawson, dearie, if tha' knee is givin' you so much trouble."

Mickey leaned over and rubbed his knee, a wry grin on his face. "I will in a minute. I just needed to talk to you about some supplies for a little trip."

He did not insult her intelligence by trying to find a way to avoid the subject. No one was around to overhear—He would have heard someone moving around—and Mrs. Judson would have realized the moment he asked for way bread that he was not asking her to provide food for a picnic in the garden. Besides, though they were alone now, someone could easily walk down the hallway and force Mickey to abandon the conversation before reaching the point if he tried to avoid it.

Her ears drooped, and her eyes darkened. "I'll see what I can find, Your Majesty."

"It's important that this must be kept secret. Please try to understand."

She gave him a soft smile. "I understand. But you need to be careful."

On impulse, he gave her a hug. He would miss her and her mother-henning. "I will."

"Where do I put everything?"

"Basil's room, please. Minnie will notice if it's in our room."

"Very well." She frowned. "What about Pluto?"

He nearly gagged as his heart relocated itself inside his throat. "Will you take care of him for me?"

"Of course."

"Thank you."

He half-walked, half-limped away from her and in the direction of the Healer's Wing.

* * *

Mickey sat on the padded examination table as Dawson inspected his knee closely. Pluto lay on the table beside him, thoroughly enjoying having his head scratched. The dog had joined his master after a run-in with the Royal Gardener.

"Well, it seems as though nothing is broken," Dawson declared at last, bringing an end to the rather uncomfortable prodding. "Just some bad bruising. Painful but nothing severe."

"So he'll live?" Basil teased from his position of leaning against a set of cabinets.

Dawson shot his friend a look. "Yes, he'll live."

"Capital."

"What he said." Mickey swung his leg and winced. "Though it hurts like no tomorrow."

"Which is why I prescribe these." Dawson wandered over to the cabinets Basil leaned against and gently shoved the Summons out of the way. After a moment of digging, he procured a bottle of tablets. "Simple aspirin. No need to take anything fancy in this case." He walked back and handed the bottle to the king. "Take two now and then one every few hours."

Mickey saluted.

Dawson murmured just loud enough for Mickey to hear, "I would say to give that knee some time to heal but I doubt that will really happen."

"'Fraid not."

"If the aspirin doesn't help, only then take a Potion. This isn't a life-threatening injury…"

The unspoken "but it could become one" hovered in the air like carrion birds: You knew they were there but did not want to think about them.

The doctor sighed. "I wish I could accompany you."

"As valuable as your skills are, the larger the group is, the more noticeable we are. We need to try _not_ to draw too much attention to ourselves." The king paused. "Though I'd feel more comfortable with you patching me up instead of Basil."

"I'll remember you said that," Basil muttered.

Dawson and Mickey chuckled at the Summons's expense. Basil huffed and toyed with one of the potions on the counter.

The doctor understood the logic behind the king's decision and bid Mickey and Basil "goodbye" when they left. However, his stomach clenched as he watched the two mice's retreating backs, afraid that this would be the last time he would see either mouse.

If life was one long narrative, it appeared that the doctor had concluded his part of the tale. And, as much as he hated it, he would have to accept it.

* * *

Now out of his royal garb and in a set of traveling clothes he had snuck out from under his wife's nose weeks ago, Mickey finished the last lines of his farewell letter to his people. Pluto would deliver it to Donald who would—hopefully—read it to them. It would explain his absence and (with luck) give them some hope for their future. 

But before he placed it in the envelope, his eyes grew blank. Mechanically, he opened a drawer and slid the letter to the very back. He pulled a new sheet from the drawer, shut it, and started to write an entirely new letter.

The Golden Keyblade had been pleased with its Bearer's resourcefulness, but the letter the king had written would not do. Through careful manipulation, the Keyblade forced the king to write a new message without him realizing what he wrote.

Basil entered the study at 11:05, just as the Keyblade finished its work. "Ready to go?"

Mickey blinked, not looking down at the message. "You're early."

"I'd rather be ready ahead of schedule in case of problems." Basil's ears pricked up with interest. "Is that your little goodbye?"

Mickey handed it to him with a nod.

Green eyes scanned the letter. "Are you sure you want to leave this?"

"Absolutely."

Mickey took back the letter, folded it without a second glance, and placed it in the waiting envelope. A bit of wax and a stamp from the royal seal later, the deed was done.

"Pluto?"

The obedient dog raised his head from where it rested on his forepaws. The whippy tail slashed the air eagerly, and Pluto jumped to his feet.

The tail stopped wagging when Mickey placed the letter in Pluto's mouth.

"Give this to Donald tomorrow when he comes in the throne room. Okay?"

Pluto whined.

"C'mon, Pluto, you gotta do this. For me?"

The dog sat down miserably, the letter still in his mouth.

"Good boy." Mickey patted his dog's head before he looked up at the clock. "Let's go, Basil."

"Right."

The two mice left the study and slunk along the corridors towards the Gummi Ship Hangar. After a few close calls, they arrived at the Basic Gummi.

"All clear," Basil announced after a quick check.

Mickey typed a code into the keypad on the side of the gummi ship. The door hissed open—far too loudly for the two mice's tastes.

"Everything there?"

"Yes, and it was very generous of Mrs. Judson to provide extra travel clothes."

Mickey nodded. He had been the diversion all afternoon while Basil squirreled away provisions and other supplies into the gummi ship. All that remained was takeoff.

Pressure against his back made him jump and whirl. His eyes were met with an upset Pluto who was trying to give the letter back to him.

Mickey sighed and fell to one knee. He stroked the dog's head. "Aw, pal. You can't come this time. I need you here."

Pluto whined.

Basil walked up from behind the king and also gave the hound a scratch on the head. "We'll be fine, old boy. And we'll try to be back before you start to miss us."

Pluto still gazed miserably at the two mice.

Basil had to turn away from those begging eyes, and Mickey swallowed hard.

"You be good, Pluto," Mickey ordered, voice cracking. He rose to his feet.

Seeing his master's decision was final, Pluto tucked his tail between his legs and lowered his head. Slowly, the dog turned and padded off.

"We had to," Basil said though it sounded as if he was assuring himself of that.

The clock tower chimed the quarter hour. 11:45. Fifteen minutes until discovery.

The two mice entered the gummi ship and sat in their places: Mickey in the pilot's seat and Basil in the co-pilot's seat. A few commands later, the door to the Basic Gummi sealed itself.

The king sent the password to the World Exit. The password was designed to keep from tripping the alarm if urgent business called him to leave while the chipmunks were asleep. Now he used it to make his escape.

"Everything appears in order," Basil reported after scanning his readouts.

The World Exit open and revealed the vastness of Interspace.

There was still time to take back the letter and remain in the castle. He _could_ keep trying to juggle his duties as king and Keybearer. That was familiar to him. Through that gate lie a universe full of unknowns.

"Exiting now," Mickey said.

The engines roared, and Mickey quickly flew through the exit, knowing it would seal itself up behind him. That initial "drop" had long ago ceased to be anything but an annoyance.

Five minutes of silence passed before Basil quipped, "So, do we have an itinerary other than 'lock as many Keyholes as possible'?"

This forced a laugh out of the now-exiled king. "Yes, yes, we do."

"Pray tell."

"We have an advantage over Ansem: We know what he's after."

"Kingdom Hearts, but nobody knows where that is."

"Exactly, so Ansem's probably still looking. Otherwise, the worlds would've already been lost to the Darkness."

Basil smirked. "I think I see what's coming."

Mickey nodded, a small smirk of his own lighting on his lips. _"We're_ going to find Kingdom Hearts before him and, if we can't seal it, at least block his way."

The smirk on Basil's face turned grim. "So whoever finds Kingdom Hearts first wins."


	3. Traverse Town

King's Exile

By Cybra

**Suggested Music:** "Traverse Town" (_Kingdom Hearts_), "Attacking Brides" (_Van Helsing_), "Useless Crucifix" (_Van Helsing_), "Final Battle" (_Van Helsing_), "To Zanarkand" (_Final Fantasy X_), "Ending Theme" (_Final Fantasy X_)

**Special Thanks:** To Vyse. Thank you for not only betaing this chapter but for being my _Final Fantasy_ expert. I probably got more than a little annoying with all of my questions.

**Disclaimer: **_Kingdom Hearts_, _The Great Mouse Detective_, and the _Basil of Baker Street Mysteries_ belong to Square, the Walt Disney Company, and the late Eve Titus respectively. The original name of "Sherringford" for Basil's first name belongs to Mlle. Irene Relda.

Chapter 2: Traverse Town

The warp engines shut down upon the Basic Gummi's arrival at the Traverse Town world. The ship drifted towards the spinning orb hovering in Interspace.

"About time." Basil stretched his arms above his head, leaning back in the co-pilot's seat as he did so.

The other mouse nodded his head in agreement. Warp jumps were relatively quick, but Mickey—as Basil had suggested—had purposely flown to multiple known worlds, hovered around them, and then warped away. If anyone had witnessed his and Basil's departure, their pursuer would have lost their trail.

"Pulling into orbit."

The gummi ship obeyed its pilot's commands. It slid into orbit with a fleetful of other gummi ships. A casual scan would mark this ship as one of dozens.

Traverse Town was also known as "the Crossroads of the Universe." It housed shops featuring products from every known world and even a few unknown ones. This world had become—in essence—an intergalactic trading post.

Yet it was here in Traverse Town that portals of sleeping (or dying) worlds would unload their passengers. That is what gave Traverse Town its _other_ nickname: "the City of Lost Souls."

All of this passed through Mickey's mind while he scanned the other gummi ships to make sure none of the Disney Castle ships had decided to drop by. He noted that he and Basil had inadvertently given themselves extra camouflage: At least fifteen Basic Gummis circled the world.

"Here we go," Mickey said.

The pair of mice walked to the transporter. After setting it to "Auto," the pair disappeared in a shimmer of light.

* * *

Basil waited impatiently as Mickey tried to come to some sort of agreement with the owner of the Accessory Shop. While it _would _be nice to not have to worry as much about injury, the situation was not so bad that they could not go without even a Darkness protection ring. Besides, Basil was not terribly excited about the idea of having his ears pierced again.1 

Still, it was funny to watch one of the most powerful mice in the universe call the owner of the Accessory Shop a scam artist. To which the owner would promptly accuse Mickey of trying to rob him blind.

"Forget it," Basil sneered. "We don't need this man's shoddy workmanship."

The direct insult on his inventory made the man turn purple with rage. "'Shoddy'! I carry only the _finest_ accessories! If you want to see shoddy workmanship, go to—"

A sudden quake interrupted the man.

Basil's Realm-given senses screamed, "Darkness!"

"Heartless," Mickey hissed unnecessarily.

The mice abandoned the shop and stopped at the edge of the steps.

"Correction: one _very large_ Heartless," Basil said.

The creature terrorizing the general populous liked one of the mythological gryphons. It was as big as a horse plus another half of a horse's size. Midnight-black fur and feathers were offset by the sulfurous eyes. The Heartless symbol—spread across its wings—was a horrifyingly elegant touch, giving it a sort of demonic beauty.

Basil's ears flattened against his skull as it screamed. The sound actually managed to twist a metal streetlamp in front of the beaked mouth into knots.

"Important safety tip: When it screams, don't be in front."

Mickey nodded grimly. "We need to get this thing away from here."

"Preferably in the open, too."

"Time to play bait."

Basil raised his fingers to his lips and whistled sharply. The Heartless spun around to face them.

"Here, birdie!" Mickey taunted. "How 'bout some mouse soufflé?"

The pair turned and ran as the Heartless took up pursuit with remarkable speed. They split up temporarily as a scream filled the air and the sound tore apart the cobblestone.

Basil had visited Traverse Town before and knew where Mickey would prefer to do battle: the open Third District. Unfortunately, the Heartless chasing them had blocked the shortcut. They would have to pass through the Second District first.

They passed through the doors leading to the Second District and held them open just long enough for the Heartless to fly through. They slammed the doors shut and continued running, offering whistles and catcalls of encouragement to the shadow creature behind them.

* * *

Leon Lionheart—formerly known as "Squall"—heard the frustrated screams of the Heartless from inside his room in the hotel. He ran outside, Gunblade in hand, with Yuffie right behind him. 

The flying Heartless hesitated in mid-air before abandoning its original target and wheeling around to face him.

"Yuffie! Get down!"

Yuffie threw her stars. "Make me!"

Leon growled in frustration. His fellow exile from the world of what was now Hollow Bastion had always been stubborn. Then again, so was he.

"Dammit, Yuffie!" He fired the Gunblade at the Heartless.

Before he could say anything else, the Heartless pulled into a sudden dive, screaming as it plummeted towards them. The ground cracked and split beneath them.

Somehow, Leon managed to leap away before he was the direct target of the sound blast. He saw Yuffie roll out of her own desperate jump.

A fireball struck the Heartless. It pulled out of its dive and swooped around on Aerith, screaming the entire way. Aerith managed to avoid a direct blast but reverberations caused her to stumble over debris.

"Shit!" Cid yelled from behind Leon, announcing his presence with that one word.

Cid tossed a lit stick of dynamite as Leon fired his Gunblade again. Yuffie resumed her attack. Aerith clambered to her feet and readied her Wizard Staff.

A few of Leon's or Yuffie's shots must have hit home. The explosion of Cid's dynamite almost certainly had hit a weak spot. The shadow creature jerked in what seemed like pain before it turned to face them again.

Leon thought he summed up the situation quite nicely: "Well, _now_ we've pissed it off."

* * *

Running upright had proven to cause too many close calls, so the two mice had switched to "four-legging it": using their hands as an extra pair of feet. It was not the most dignified way to get where they were going, but running closer to the ground certainly helped pick up the pace. 

However, Basil noticed something wrong as he glanced swiftly over their shoulder. "Mickey, wait! Aren't we missing something?"

Mickey risked a glance over his shoulder before the two mice skidded to a stop. "Where is it?"

"I don't know but this doesn't bode well."

The angry screams of the Heartless attracted their attention.

"Neither does that," Mickey said. "C'mon!"

The pair raced towards the source of the sound: the center of the Second District. The area was not an ideal battleground for what they had hoped to do but it would have to suffice. It was time to change tactics.

People running while fighting the Heartless provided the answer as to why the creature had stopped chasing its tormentors.

"Give them a hand?"

"Why?" Basil asked, sarcasm lacing his voice. "They look like they're having fun."

Mickey could not repress his snicker.

The pair leaped up onto the upper walkway, gripping the side and flipping up to make it.

"First step is to bring that thing down. Would you like to start this time?"

Basil's right hand glowed blue. "Oh, may I?"

* * *

"Blizzaga!" 

One of the Heartless's wings froze, and the creature crashed into the ground.

Yuffie took her eyes off of the fight and searched for the source of the freezing blast.

"Nice shot!" a high-pitched tenor voice complimented whoever had frozen the Heartless's wing.

"Rotten shot," an accented voice groused. "I was aiming for the head."

Two figures jumped down from one of the walkways. It took Yuffie a moment to realize that she was staring at a pair of human-sized mice.

The tan one grinned, the smile feral. His tail slashed the air twice. "Here, kitty, kitty."

So this was the accented voice and the person who had cast the freeze spell. But what of the other?

The black mouse glanced in their direction. "Mind if we join you?"

That sentence spoken in such a high-pitched male voice should have been funny. But it was not. There was something in his voice which told the ninja girl that he could most definitely do his share of the fighting.

"If you're in the mood to have your asses handed to ya, be our guests." Cid trimmed the fuse of another stick of dynamite, preparing for another attack.

The creature screamed in the two mice's direction. They split up, allowing the blast to destroy the bench and part of the wall behind them.

Yuffie threw her stars as Leon fired another shot. One star lodged itself in the Heartless's neck, which apparently caused the shadow creature great discomfort.

The taller mouse appeared suddenly as he leapt over the Heartless from behind. A fist glowed momentarily yellow before he slammed it into the creature's back. Electricity crackled, and the Heartless stumbled.

Aerith cast another fire spell at the creature's neck. Leon, seeing the damage Yuffie and Aerith caused it, fired his Gunblade at the neck while Cid threw more dynamite.

The black mouse dashed into the clearing smoke while the taller mouse flipped over the Heartless's head, miraculously unharmed by Cid's dynamite. A flash of gold drew Yuffie's attention to the abnormally large golden key in the black mouse's hand.

_Slash!_ Gold sliced through black.

In one last, desperate attempt, the Heartless attempted to claw the black mouse, but a well-aimed throwing star to the eye changed its plans.

A golden key tore through the rest of the neck.

The creature dissolved in a puff of smoke.

"And that is how we do that," the black mouse dryly commented.

The taller mouse gave his friend a smile, rubbing his right arm and wincing. Apparently, he had not escaped completely unscathed from Cid's blast.

The Hollow Bastion exiles approached warily. Even though they _had_ just fought together, one could never be too careful.

However now that the battle was over, Yuffie recognized one of the pair that had assisted them. Her face lit up. "King Mickey!"

A friendly smile soon extended across the shorter mouse's features. "Hi, Yuffie, everybody."

Yuffie barely suppressed a giggle as Cid's jaw dropped and his ever-present cigarette dangled from his lips. "You've got to be shittin' me. What the fuck are you doin' here? And who the fuck is this guy?"

Even though the friendly smile remained on the king's face, nothing but seriousness filled his black eyes. "I'll explain that soon enough. In the meantime, I need to do a little work here and in the Third District."

* * *

Leon thought his head was going to implode. 

The king had used his Keyblade to do _something_ to the doors leading to the First District from both the Second District and the Third District before he and his tan friend had rented a room under an assumed name. Now they all sat in that room, and the king had just finished telling his and the tan mouse's story. The yellow walls and strangely cheery desert decorations of Room Three offered no help as the warrior tried to sort out what he and his comrades had been told.

King Mickey, who now sat cross-legged on the bed, had placed himself into exile and was trying to save the universe by trying to find Kingdom Hearts before the master of the Heartless found it. (As to that person's identity, King Mickey was oddly reticent on that fact.)

The tan mouse stretched out languidly behind the king was, technically, not really alive. Sherringford Basil—or, rather, "Basil"—was actually a Summons who accompanied the king on his self-appointed task.

And now, while these two mice were going against all kinds of odds, they wanted his and his comrades' help.

"You two seem like you can handle yourselves," Aerith said from her spot next to Yuffie. "Why ask for _our_ help?"

"Because we can't be in two places at once," the king explained. "Donald and Goofy need to be directed towards the other Keybearer, not us. If they discover where we are, trip's over."

Leon shook his head in an attempt to clear the cobwebs from his mind. "But we haven't seen _anyone_ with a Keyblade except for you."

This time it was the king who shook his head. "We're early. Those portals must've dropped him off at a later time. Damn, I hate the unpredictability factor in those things."

"He'll catch up," Basil assured. "Donald and Goofy should show up at about the same time, right?"

"Hopefully." The king turned his attention back to the Hollow Bastion exiles. "But can we count on your help?"

Leon looked at his fellow exiles. Perhaps they _could_ be of some assistance and, ultimately, get back not _Hollow_ Bastion but _Hallow_ Bastion. "Sure."

"Thanks. We owe ya one."

"No, we're even," Cid corrected. "You helped save our asses back there."

"So what're you two going to do now?" Yuffie asked.

"For the moment? Sleep and get ready to leave tomorrow." A clock chimed somewhere, and the king winced. "I mean, later today."

"C'mon, everybody. Let's let them hit the hay." Leon started shoving his group out the door.

The door shut with a quiet _click_ behind him. A gentle test on the knob proved that it was locked. The pair of mice would be left alone, and no one would know who _really_ occupied that room.

Cid yawned. "I say we make like them and catch a few Zs."

The rest of them agreed and wandered away from Room Three.

* * *

Inside the yellow room, Mickey yawned and slid his body onto bed with his head resting on one of the pillows. Basil scooted off. 

"Guess I'd better get back to the Realm." The Summons did not seem too happy with this idea.

"Why?"

"One bed and two of us. You're not too tired to do the math, I hope?"

"Bed's big enough for the both of us." Mickey padded the empty space beside him.

Basil hesitated. "Are you sure?"

"Basil, it's not like we're doing anything. Lie down and go to sleep."

The black mouse had wriggled under the covers and had invitingly left part of them open.

Too tired to argue the point further, Basil climbed in and pulled the covers over himself. "I hope you don't kick in your sleep."

_"Minnie's_ the kicker."

The Summons chuckled and settled in so that they lie back-to-back. "Good night, Mickey."

"Good night, Basil."

* * *

1 Basil—like Sherlock Holmes—was a master of disguise. Most likely, he occasionally had to submit to ear piercing to make a costume more authentic. 


	4. Pluto

King's Exile  
By Cybra

**Suggested Music:** "To Zanarkand" (_Final Fantasy X_), "Treasured Memories" (_Kingdom Hearts_), "Evenstar" (_The Lord of the Rings: The __Two__Towers_), "It Began With a Letter" (_Kingdom Hearts_), "Blast Away! -Gummi Ship I-" (_Kingdom Hearts_), "Go the Distance" (arranged by Chip Davis), "The Black Rider" (_The Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring_), "You've Got A Friend In Me" (arranged by Chip Davis)

**Disclaimer:** _Kingdom Hearts_ is the property of the Walt Disney Company and Square-Enix. _The Great Mouse Detective_ and the _Basil of Baker Street Mysteries_ belong to the Walt Disney Company and the late Eve Titus respectively.

Chapter 3: Pluto

Pluto spent a miserable night lying behind his master's throne. The scent of Mickey lingered everywhere: on the throne, on the carpet leading to it, even the banners above seemed to release the smell of his master. The scent brought to mind better days when the sun shone and the king would take a break to play fetch with him in the Royal Gardens; it brought memories of Mickey pacing that very room as a perplexing problem troubled the monarch's mind.

Each memory brought new bouts of whimpering and sniffling. He would have howled but he dared not drop the precious letter he held in his mouth.

Not once did he let the letter touch the floor. When the sun finally rose and smiled brightly on the Magic Kingdom, Pluto sat up and waited for the Head Mage.

Donald came in promptly at 9:15. While Pluto did not see the mage's entrance, he certainly heard it.

"Good morning, Your Majesty," the duck greeted a seemingly empty room. "It's nice to see you this morn—"

There was a pause in the mage's steps.

Pluto rose to his feet.

"What!" Donald squawked.

The dog peeked out from his hiding place, making sure that the letter was in full view.

Donald stared at him for a full minute before ordering, "Pluto, give me that!"

Pluto hesitated. This letter was the last thing his beloved master had given him. He wanted to keep and treasure the letter, for it smelled of Mickey.

But Mickey had told Pluto to give the letter to the Head Mage. If that was what the king wanted, the dog would oblige his wish.

Pluto padded over and presented the letter to Donald.

Donald snatched the letter from his mouth and tore it open. As the mage read, Pluto watched bits of envelope flutter to the floor.

A wild squawking made Pluto jump. He jerked his head up just in time to see Donald race away.

* * *

Pluto was attempting to get some sleep in the library when the queen entered with Lady Daisy, Sir Goofy, and Head Mage Donald in tow. 

Under ordinary circumstances, Pluto would have risen to greet the queen with a slobbery lick. Today, however, Pluto chose to remain on his plush doggy bed to try to sleep away his misery. He even ignored the bone in his bright blue dog dish.

"Donald," he heard the queen say, "please read the letter."

The dog listened intently as the mage cleared his throat and began to read.

"Donald,

"Sorry to rush off without sayin' goodbye, but there's big trouble brewin'. Not sure why, but the stars have been blinkin' out, one by one. And that means disaster can't be far behind. I hate to leave you all but I've gotta go check into it.

"There's someone with a 'key'—the key to our survival. So I need you and Goofy to find him, and stick with him. Got it? We need that key or we're doomed! So go to Traverse Town and find Leon. He'll point you in the right direction.

"P.S. Would ya apologize to Minnie for me? Thanks, pal."

It was all the dog could do not to sit up and howl right there. He could hear his master's voice in place of Donald's.

"Oh, dear!" Daisy murmured. "What could this mean?"

Queen Minnie was quiet for a moment before she answered, "It means we'll just have to trust the king."

"Gawrsh," Goofy said, "I sure hope he's all right."

"Your Highness, don't worry. We'll find the king and this 'key,'" Donald told the monarch.

"Thank you, both of you."

The Head Mage turned to the queen's lady-in-waiting. "Daisy, can you take care of the—"

"Of course," Daisy said. "You be careful, now, both of you."

The queen continued, almost as an afterthought, "Oh, and to chronicle your travels, he will accompany you."

A tiny voice called from somewhere that Pluto could not see behind his closed eyelids, "Over here! Cricket's the name. Jiminy Cricket, at your service."

"We hope for your safe return," the queen said, giving her blessing. "Please help the king."

There was a brief pause before Donald said—for some strange reason—"You're coming, too!" Pluto could only assume that the duck said it to Goofy since he had not yet opened his eyes.

But his ears pricked. They were going to try and find Mickey?

He opened his eyes and leaped to his feet as the group left the library. Finding people was his specialty!

The loyal dog sped through the library doors. Donald and Goofy had already walked a good ways down the stately hall. A glance to his left showed Lady Daisy trying to comfort a quietly crying Queen Minnie.

Pluto paused for a moment before racing down the hall. As he caught up to the knight and the mage, they closed the door practically on his nose.

The dog growled at the closed door before running down a different hallway. There was more than one way to reach the Gummi Ship Hangar.

* * *

He arrived at the hangar just as Donald and Goofy did. He leapt off of a platform and into the gummi ship's open hatch. He then sat down next to one of the windows, gazing out at the interior of the hangar. 

"Oh, no! Pluto, you're staying here!" the duck snapped, grabbing him by the collar.

With a howl, Pluto strained against the Head Mage's firm grip.

"Aw, c'mon, Donald. He just wants to help," Goofy said.

Looking back at the duck, Pluto eagerly panted and nodded his head.

"He'll be nothing but trouble," Donald argued.

Pluto lowered his head and gave a pleading look up at the mage. He added a whine for good measure.

Donald released the dog and placed a hand over his eyes. "Fine."

Barking merrily, Pluto placed his front paws on Donald's chest and gave him a slobbery lick of thanks.

"Down, Pluto!" Donald ordered.

Pluto obeyed and allowed Donald to take the pilot's seat. Goofy sat beside the duck in the co-pilot's chair.

The launch sequence ejected the gummi ship from the hangar and into the unknown.

* * *

Basil awoke feeling warmer than he had been the night before. He groggily opened his eyes and blinked twice. He yawned and considered closing his eyes and going back to sleep. 

Somebody adjusted his or her grip on the Summons.

He smiled softly and closed his eyes.

It took exactly 2.58 seconds for his sleep-fogged brain to process this information.

Green eyes shot back open and focused on the exiled king. Mickey—unlike last night—faced the Summons, his warm breath blowing against Basil's throat. One arm lay wrapped around Basil's waist.

It appeared that at some point during the night, the pair had rolled over and met in the middle. Who knew how long they had lain in such a compromising position?

Now it was the heat of Basil's ear-to-tail blush that warmed him. Had he and Mickey been on _his_ world, they could have been arrested for what it certainly _looked_ like had happened.1 As it was, the royal scandal Mickey would suffer if anyone saw would be devastating.

But Mickey looked so comfortable where he was that Basil found it difficult to gain the nerve to wake him.

The black mouse made the decision for the Summons. He yawned and opened his eyes to stare into Basil's helpless ones. Mickey blinked.

For a moment, neither said a word.

**"Yah!"** both shouted, hurriedly scooting away from one another and ending up toppling off their respective sides of the bed.

Basil rubbed his sore tail end. What a wakeup call.

Mickey walked around to his side, also nursing a sore behind. "Sorry about that. I, uh, well…"

Mickey looked as flustered as Basil felt. He nervously held out a hand to Basil.

Basil took it and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. He cleared his throat. "I believe now would be a good time to…er…work on your cover story."

Clearly thankful for the change in subject, Mickey asked, "Cover story?"

"You need some sort of story if we talk to anyone, and telling the truth seems like a rotten idea. You need a new identity."

Mickey nodded. "You're the expert. What's first?"

* * *

Pluto immediately put his nose to the ground as soon as he, Donald, and Goofy arrived in the First District of Traverse Town. The first sniff told him that the mage and the knight were right in coming here. The familiar scent of Mickey could not have been much more than eight hours old. And—unless his trusty nose had suddenly failed him—the Summons Basil was with his beloved master. 

He moved ahead of Donald and Goofy, paying little mind to their conversation.

"Look! A star's goin' out!" Goofy shouted in alarm.

"C'mon. Let's hurry."

The scent of Mickey went forward, so Pluto bounded ahead after it. If Goofy and Donald did not follow, it was their loss.

"Where's that key…" he heard Donald wonder aloud.

"Hey, you know, maybe we ought to go find Leon."

The scent of Mickey went right, but something strange drew Pluto left. Curious, he turned left at the Accessory Shop.

"Uh, Donald. Ya know, I betcha that…"

"Aw, what do you know, you big palooka?"

Their voices were getting fainter as Pluto focused more and more on a new person's scent which held that funny smell that always seemed to accompany his master.

"What do I know?" Goofy wondered aloud, his voice sounding far away to the dog. "Hmm…Come on, Pluto."

Pluto ignored the command and continued down a dead end alley.

His nose led him to a spiky-haired youth lying behind several crates. The boy was either unconscious or asleep; Pluto was not sure which.

So Pluto did the only thing a dog could do to check: He started licking the boy's right cheek.

The boy started to groan, clearly groggy.

Panting, Pluto sat down and wagged his tail. It would not be long now before this boy with the familiar funny scent would wake up. Maybe he would know where Mickey was.

"What a dream…" the boy murmured.

Pluto playfully hopped up and pushed against the boy's chest. It never failed to wake his master and gain a laugh.

It did not seem to amuse this boy. In fact, it seemed to frighten him.

"This isn't a dream!" the boy cried with wide blue eyes.

Pluto sat back down as the boy stood and looked around.

"Where am I? Oh, boy."

Continuing to pant and wag his tail, Pluto waited. Maybe his master had left the boy here for him to find. Unlikely but possible. He would have his answers soon enough.

The boy leaned over him. "Do you know where we are?"

Now it was clear that while this boy had that funny smell, he was absolutely useless.

Cocking his right ear as a "goodbye," Pluto bounded off. He galloped around to the other side of the Accessory Shop and lowered his head to the ground. Sniffing around, he caught the scent of his master.

His nose led him to the double doors leading to the Second District.

"Hello there, boy," an awkward-looking man with thick glasses said, kneeling down. "You with the duck and the dog…person?"

Pluto barked the affirmative, wagging his tail.

The man grinned and patted Pluto's head. He opened the door. "There ya go."

Barking in thanks, Pluto trotted through. He put his nose to the ground and resumed his sniffing.

Mickey—and Basil, too—had passed this way twice. The fresher of the two scents (though not that much fresher) brought him closer and closer to the hotel.

* * *

_'I'm an explorer. I'm traveling with my friend Basil. If anybody saw my wedding ring before, I just got the message that finalized my divorce,'_ Mickey repeated in his mind. _'And I look like that missing king? I hear that all the time now.'_

The story was simple enough to remember. All he had to do was keep from slipping.

While he had been building his cover story, Basil had briefly gone back to the ship to retrieve a few articles of clothing. What Mickey had previously been wearing might have generated questions upon a closer look. The blue long-sleeved shirt that was almost too big along with the gray pants, leather shoes, and simple belt would help reduce the questions.

As he finished pulling his glove on (the tell-tale wedding ring concealed beneath it), he studied himself in the mirror.

_'Not bad. I almost look _normal.'

"Now we just need a name that's easy to remember," Basil said. He turned around to face the exiled king. "Your real name will work, but you need a surname to go with it."

Mickey thought for a minute. "Mickey Mouse."

The last name that he had picked was as common among mice as "Smith" was among humans. Simple and easy to remember.

Basil tilted his head to one side, obviously considering. "Mickey Mouse…It fits."

Mickey considered that statement before he grinned. "You know, it really does. Go figure." He strolled across the room before turning around. "How was that?"

In addition to creating a cover story, Mickey was also trying to break some of the same royal habits Basil had observed during their first meeting.2 Not an easy task considering that he had spent nearly twenty-six years creating them and he could not be sure how long he had to break them.

"Better. Still a little stiff. Your knee?"

"Better thanks to Dr. Dawson's miracle aspirin."

"Then _relax_ as you walk. You're thinking too hard about it." Basil flicked his tail in thought. "Imagine how you would walk if you _had_ been commonborn. Then walk."

Mickey closed his eyes and tried to imagine a common version of himself. He saw an easy, relaxed stride that could cover a fair amount of distance in a short time. He lifted his foot.

A sudden scratching on the door drew his attention away from his "commoner lessons."

Mickey tensed and sensed Basil do the same. Basil had gone downstairs forty-five minutes ago to fetch breakfast and tell the front desk that they did not need housekeeping to come through. Besides, the staff would have knocked, not scratched.

Was it Heartless? No. The senses that alerted him to their dark presence would have been wailing by now. Some other threat that he had yet to meet and identify?

He slunk towards the door, Basil matching his movements just to his right. Every strand of fur reached for the sky. His tail was as stiff as a rod. Yet he did not call forth the Keyblade. There was still the chance that the source of the scratching was friend not foe.

As Mickey opened the door, some part of his mind whispered that there was something _familiar_ about that scratch.

Something golden yellow slammed into him, knocking him to the floor. He heard Basil's cry of surprise and prepared himself to call the Keyblade.

His attacker licked his face.

Mickey blinked and stared up into the enthusiastic eyes of…"Pluto?"

The loyal dog barked and licked his face again.

Basil closed the door and doubled over in laughter.

The exiled king glared at the Summons before he grinned wickedly. "Go say 'hello' to Basil."

Obedient as ever, Pluto bounded over to Basil.

Basil stopped laughing long enough to say "Wha—" before Pluto licked him in the face. Now it was Mickey's turn to laugh as the tan mouse began to spit repeatedly.

"Right in the mouth," Basil groused. "It's like French kissing a dog."

Pluto barked merrily—oblivious to the discomfort he had just caused Basil—and trotted back to Mickey. He fell to the floor and rolled over onto his back.

Automatically, Mickey started rubbing the dog's belly. The entire time, he guiltily thought that Pluto was the one thing he would have missed most from the castle.

Clearly through expelling dog saliva from his mouth, Basil strolled over with a mildly affectionate grin on his face. "Now, how did you get here, boy?"

Mickey patted Pluto's belly three times, and the dog rolled over. The black mouse said, "Donald and Goofy must've brought him."

The two mice froze. The dog tilted his head to one side.

Mickey reviewed his own statement in his head and cussed.

* * *

1 Until 1861, homosexuals could be hung for _any_ homosexual act even if semen was not discharged. After that, male homosexuals could spend up to two years in prison, with or without hard labor. (This, obviously, held a loophole when it came to women.) In July 1967, the Sexual Offenses Act was passed, which made two men having sexual relations _in private_ legal. It wasn't until 1996 that the House of Lords introduced the Sexual Orientation Discrimination Bill, which protected both gays and lesbians from discrimination. However, even though the Lords have passed it twice, it has been rejected each time by the House of Commons. For more complete information, check out this address (minus the spaces): http/lc-hiv-aids /magazinearticles /may2000.htm 

2 See "King's Ascent."


	5. Near Miss

King's Exile  
By Cybra

**Apology:** To the people who used to read this story, which hasn't been updated in forever. Unfortunately, life happened and I ended up stuck. I hope two new chapters and the promise of more will appease you.

**Suggested Music: ** "Library of Congress" (_National Treasure_), "The Heartless Has Come" (_Kingdom Hearts_), "Fuego" (Bond)

**Disclaimer:** _Kingdom Hearts_ is the property of the Walt Disney Company and Square-Enix. _The Great Mouse Detective_ and the _Basil of Baker Street Mysteries_ belong to the Walt Disney Company and the late Eve Titus respectively.

Chapter 4: Near Miss

There was nothing remarkable about the tall man in the hallway aside from the muzzle that protruded from his face. However, non-humans were fairly common in Traverse Town (especially after so many people had been displaced by the Heartless) so no one would have given him and the well-worn clothing he wore a second glance.

He seemed to pause in silent study of a painting on the wall of the hallway, whatever he'd planned to do forgotten as he contemplated the framed image.

What any passerby would have missed was that the humanoid male was _not_ focusing on the painting at all. He was straining his partially-covered ears to catch every scrap of conversation possible from both Room 2 and the Red Room.

Suddenly, every muscle went tense. Finely-honed senses wailed, "_Heartless!"_

A familiar voice—Leon—shouted from within Room 2, "Yuffie, go!"

The slam of a door _inside_ of the room. (The sole occupant of the hallway quickly deduced that these were adjoining rooms.)

"Sora," Leon's voice continued, "let's go!"

A crash and then silence. The humanoid male's senses stopped their cries, and his muscles relaxed.

Satisfied with what information he had gathered, he unlocked the door to Room Three.

* * *

Mickey quickly but quietly started to gather his and Basil's things. Pluto was stretched out on the floor, staying out of his master's way. 

_Click!_ The lock announced that the other person who had previously occupied the room had returned.

Mickey looked up as a figure in well-worn clothing entered, a battered old hat perched atop the figure's head and covering the top halves of the figure's ears. "Well?"

"Donald and Goofy are here in the hotel," Basil said, closing the door and pulling off the hat.

With impressive speed, Basil changed from his impromptu costume into his normal clothing, swishing his tail back and forth to get the blood flowing back into it. Mickey winced sympathetically. The pants Basil had chosen on a quick trip back to the Gummi ship had not allowed his tail to be free to do as it liked, painful to any mouse.

However, the pain seemed to have paid off. Donald and Goofy—had they seen Basil—would have recognized a mouse's tail in an instant and might have tried to get information from the detective. Then, after seeing his face, they would have realized that Mickey was in the area, which was Not Good at this point. It would have ruined the whole plan.

"How'd they find us so quickly?"

Basil shrugged, quickly grabbing the discarded clothing and tossing it into the "Go Back to Ship" pile. "I'm as baffled as you are. They couldn't have followed our trail. I don't think _Toby_ could have followed our trail had we been laying scent instead of world-hopping."

"So that leaves only one option: dumb luck," Mickey said grimly. "So, where exactly are they?"

"Two doors down from us, but the room next door and their room are connected, so it could be possible that they're directly next door to us now." Basil rubbed his temples. "Damn! This makes things complicated."

"Tell me about it. We've got to fly out under their noses. This time, however, we don't have the luxury of waiting until near-midnight."

"I do have good news," Basil said.

Mickey raised a practically invisible eyebrow. "I'm definitely in the mood for good news right now."

"The other Keybearer is here. Leon and Yuffie were talking to him."

So _that_ was why the Golden Keyblade had been humming. He'd thought it was because of the impending Heartless attack (he, too, had sensed the Heartless that had appeared next door). The magical blade must have been calling to its sister blade.

Hopefully, that sister blade wouldn't give them away.

"Where are they now?" Mickey asked.

"They left following the attack, possibly via the balcony."

The exiled king frowned. He'd hoped to meet this other Keybearer, maybe even gain his or her help in avoiding his loyal-yet-misguided friends. Had he possessed enough time, he would have given the other Keybearer a hand in learning to wield his or her Keyblade, an advantage that he himself had not had.

It appeared that those plans would have to be scrapped.

"We're ready to go here," Mickey said. "We can take this all to the gummi ship by using the transporter so nobody sees us. You gonna pay the bill?"

"Do I have a choice?" Basil asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Not really," the exiled king chirped, grinning wickedly. "You're less recognizable than me. You have a better chance of slipping by Donald and Goofy than I do."

The Summons sighed. "Very well." He raised an eyebrow. "What about Pluto?"

Hearing his name, the dog sat up on his haunches, panting.

The dog's master gazed at Pluto with indecision.

Carefully, the Summons suggested, "Trying to take him back to Donald and Goofy is too risky. And I doubt Pluto will let you leave him behind this time."

A woof of affirmation, and the loyal hound stood and trotted over to his master, rubbing his head against Mickey's side.

The black mouse sighed and gave a wry smile. "Guess you're comin' with us, boy."

Pluto jumped up and licked Mickey's face, making the exiled king laugh.

"So, we take this pile and Pluto up to the gummi ship then go?"

Mickey paused. "We don't go just yet."

The Summons stared at the exiled king before frowning, catching on to what his friend wanted to do. "It'll be risky."

"You don't have to come."

"Since when do I _not_ come?"

The two mice squared off in a silent argument.

Finally, Basil relented, "From the rooftops at least. Less chance of being seen."

Mickey smiled, grabbing Pluto's collar while Basil snatched up the small pile of clothing that had accumulated along with some of the leftovers from breakfast. "I owe you one."

As he pressed the Auto-Recall button, he heard Basil mutter, "You owe me more than _one."_

_

* * *

_  
With Pluto and the small pile of food and clothing safely stowed aboard the gummi ship, Mickey and Basil were free to race across the rooftops of Traverse Town, following that internal cry of "_Heartless!"_ Mickey easily cleared the gaps between roofs, the Glide ability he had gained from a certain pixie's dust kicking in automatically with each jump. He noticed his companion sometimes stumble as he miscalculated a jump in his haste. He made a mental note to make a quick (if risky) stopover in Neverland in the near future.

They leapt through a window leading to the third district and surprised a pair of Heartless standing on a balcony on the other side. The Golden Keyblade tore through both with one easy slice.

Basil pointed towards the center of the third district where the cries of battle could be heard.

Mickey looked and saw an obscenely large set of purple armor hovering in the air, its limbs disconnected from the body and head. However, one of its legs was already missing.

The reason was because not one but _three_ figures were attacking it. The exiled king easily recognized Goofy and Donald. But the third…

His eyes widened. '_That boy! The one on the beach! He did make it after all!'_

Thank goodness. In the pit of his stomach had lurked the worry that the Golden Keyblade's sister blade had been forced to find a new Bearer. The boy on the beach's lack of expertise had been sadly noticeable even from the distance Mickey had seen him.

"They'll have to take it out one limb at a time," Basil murmured.

The shorter mouse nodded. At the same time, he forced himself not to leap into action. His own Keyblade cried for the destruction of that abomination _right now._ It was taking every bit of his will to oppose the will of the Golden Keyblade.

'_Quiet!'_ he mentally snapped at it. '_I have to let them do this on their own!'_

However, he chewed his lower lip as a fisted gauntlet knocked the other Keybearer off his feet, the Silver Keyblade flying free.

"C'mon…c'mon…"

The boy rolled away just as the lone foot attempted to turn him into a smear on the floor. As if on autopilot, the boy scrambled for his weapon while Goofy charged the other gauntlet, which was currently aiming for the new Keybearer.

'_Perhaps his Keyblade possesses some will over him, too? Or just instinct to go for a weapon?'_

The black mouse hoped it was the latter. That meant that the boy's survival and warrior instincts just might help him master the blade quickly due to necessity. That and Mickey knew what a pain a rather commanding weapon could be.

Three blasts of fire from Donald finished off the attacking gauntlet.

"Foot!" the knight yelled, jumping and rolling away as the metal foot came down where he had been standing.

The boy moved in, slashing with a painful lack of know-how ("No, no!" Mickey hissed. "Straight down! Straight down!") and striking the foot. The mage lashed out with ice this time while the knight recovered his footing and began another charge.

A squawk of pain, and Donald went flying as the armored body slammed into him. The duck hit the floor, crying out unintelligibly as Goofy used his shield to block another attack.

While the last remaining limb beat against Goofy's shield, attempting to throw the knight off-balance, the boy slashed at the fist, shouting a battle cry.

The exiled king saw his companion raise a wry eyebrow before murmuring, "Well, I suppose brute force does work when there's a lack of skill."

Mickey punched his arm though he couldn't help smiling. Then he tensed and hissed, "Look out, look out, look out!"

The boy could never have hoped to hear the black mouse's warning, so it was no surprise when the body slammed into him while he finished off the gauntlet. He hit the floor, and Donald fired a blast of electricity to cease another strike.

Goofy charged again, slamming into the body before continuing on his way. He skidded to a stop and turned, preparing for another charge.

The boy climbed to his feet and raced towards the body as Donald fired spells over his head. Goofy began his charge.

The two mice watched with tails arched in anticipation.

The boy leapt into the air, slashing while the knight struck with his shield, crouched down enough to just make it beneath the boy's jump. Lightning came down from the sky, striking simultaneously with the two attacks.

Perhaps before they had discovered the trick, the trio had gone for the body originally, for the body started shuddering, its helmet lowering into it. Light began to emanate off of the armored body, and a shining heart flew out of it.

"Let's go," Mickey said.

Basil nodded, and the pair exited back through the window before transporting up to the gummi ship.

* * *

"It looks like we're clear to leave. The ship Donald and Goofy brought is just maintaining its orbit," Basil announced. 

He watched the exiled king press a few buttons. "Okay, then. Here we go."

The Summons knew that he wouldn't but always felt as if he _should_ feel _something_ during liftoff. And when they actually landed on a world, yes, he did feel as if a bit of his stomach had been left on the ground (though Mickey's liftoffs were significantly smoother than some pilots he had experienced while acting as bodyguard to the king). However, in Interspace where "up" was a relative term, he always had to check to make sure that they actually _were_ lifting off.

Just like he did then. He glanced at his readouts and saw that they had indeed left orbit. He watched as the projected course pointed towards a world.

"I thought we were going to find Kingdom Hearts," Basil pointed out dryly.

"We are."

"So why are we heading to the…" he double-checked the readout "…Neverland world?"

Mickey plugged in the coordinates for the warp jump and leaned back in his seat, reaching out to scratch Pluto's head. "Because I realized that there's something there that we might find useful in the future."

Basil raised an eyebrow as the warp drive initiated the jump.


	6. Stopover in Neverland London

King's Exile  
By Cybra

**Suggested Music: ** "Library of Congress" (_National Treasure_), "The Heartless Has Come" (_Kingdom Hearts_), "Fuego" (Bond)

**Disclaimer:** _Kingdom Hearts_ is the property of the Walt Disney Company and Square-Enix. _The Great Mouse Detective_ and the _Basil of Baker Street Mysteries_ belong to the Walt Disney Company and the late Eve Titus respectively.

Chapter 5: Stopover in Neverland London

"**You're out of your bloody mind!"**

Mickey rubbed his temples, sighing. And it had seemed like such a _good_ idea, too. Apparently, he'd forgotten to take into account two not-so-little problems.

The first was that story Dr. Dawson had told him about the "Flaversham Case", which had nearly ended Basil's career when he fell off of their world's Big Ben. Judging from Basil's horrified expression, he remembered that incident _quite well._

The second was Basil's fear of heights which was most likely _caused_ by that fall. True, if Basil had enough distractions, he would forget being scared. However, this wasn't distracting him from a possible fall.

"Aw, c'mon!" Peter Pan said, swooping in front of the terrified mouse. "You'll love it!"

The Summons growled and glared at the redhead. "No."

"You're being a wuss," Mickey teased, attempting to taunt the other mouse into taking the big step.

Obviously, it didn't work. Basil scowled. "I'm staying right here. I'm not a bird."

"Neither am I. But watch this!"

"Mickey, no!"

The black mouse leaped lightly off of the edge of Big Ben and performed a loop-de-loop in the air before turning and facing the tan mouse. He grinned widely as Basil stared in shocked awe. "See? No problem."

"'No problem'! Mickey, you nearly gave me a heart attack!"

The exiled king rubbed the back of his head, grinning sheepishly.

Okay, _that_ had been a blatantly stupid move in hindsight.

Pluto, however, wagged his tail and barked eagerly, crouching down and preparing to make the jump himself.

"Woah! Hang on there, boy!" Peter told the loveable pup, grabbing Pluto's collar. "Tink! How 'bout a little pixie dust?"

The glowing fairy swooped over the dog, golden dust falling upon his head and back. What dust that landed on his nose caused Pluto to automatically sneeze. The dust glowed for a moment before seeming to disappear.

Mickey glanced at Basil who watched the spectacle distrustfully. Not surprising.

He turned his attention back to Pluto, grinning widely and calling, "Here, boy!"

Pluto barked and crouched again. Peter released his collar as the dog leaped towards his master.

The Summons automatically gave a cry of alarm.

But Pluto didn't fall. When the momentum from his jump wore out, he kicked his legs in the air as if he were dogpaddling until he reached Mickey.

"Good boy, Pluto! Good boy!"

The dog's tail wagged so fast that it was practically a blur. He looked about in all directions then proceeded to "swim" around, barking merrily.

"See? Nothing to it. Even a dog could do it," Peter told the reluctant tan mouse, landing next to him and grabbing his shoulders.

The Summons gazed nervously at the edge.

"C'mon. It's great," Mickey urged, flying forward and hovering in front of Basil so that they were (finally!) eye level. "Do you trust me?"

He held his breath as the tan mouse glanced at the edge again before meeting his eyes.

* * *

"_Do you trust me?"_

Did he trust Mickey? Yes, he did. The black mouse would never have brought him up here if he didn't believe that everything would be all right. But did he trust Mickey enough to be able to jump off the edge of _Big Ben_ of all places?

His insides felt like they had been replaced with water. His mouth felt dry. He would have given anything to be back on the gummi ship right about now.

"_Do you trust me?"_

"…What do I have to do?" he asked quietly.

Mickey smiled broadly.

Peter answered for the exiled king, "We add a little bit of pixie dust…" Tinkerbell zoomed about the tan mouse, leaving her golden dust all over him. "Now, just think of a wonderful thought."

His muscles tensed, and he looked at Peter out of the corner of his eye. "That's it?"

"That's it."

"And that's supposed to make me _fly?"_

Mickey laying a hand on his shoulder brought his attention back to the other mouse. "I know it sounds crazy, but it works. Besides, we've seen crazier stuff, haven't we?"

This was true, so Basil nodded.

"So what can a little happy thought hurt, huh?"

The detective nodded and closed his eyes, trying to push the terror out of his mind. He had to think of something happy…

* * *

"_What's this place?" Mickey asked with open curiosity as they passed the Red Lion._

"_It's called a public house, a pub. It's like a restaurant but with far less formality."_

"_So it serves food?"_

_Basil shrugged. "Well, it mostly serves spirits but, yes, it does also serve food."_

"_I'm guessing whoever goes in there isn't married and can't cook." A smirk from the black mouse._

"_Or they _are _married and want to forget it," Basil countered, grinning and making Mickey laugh._

* * *

He felt his cheeks redden. Of all the things to pop into his mind that was happy, it had to be when they both were younger and exploring his world. 

However, it was a happy memory, making it a happy thought. It would work for the moment.

'_Keep it in your mind and don't think about what you're about to do,'_ he advised himself.

Opening his eyes, he gazed up into Mickey's curious face.

Immediate annoyance. '_Oh, hell, my cheeks are still red.'_ But then came confusion. '_But why was I embarrassed anyway?'_

Pushing the thought to the back of his mind, he took a deep breath. "Now what?"

"See if you can reach me," Mickey told him.

The black mouse backed up, holding out his hand. Basil stepped forward, reaching out to grasp it. However, Mickey kept moving back and pulling his hand out of reach, forcing the Summons to keep going forward.

Until, finally, he could not feel the building beneath him anymore.

His eyes widened. He felt absolute _panic._ However, Mickey was right there and grasped his hand.

"It's okay! You're fine! I've got you! You're not going to fall!"

Peter zipped around into view, smirking. "Finally got you off the clock tower!"

"Peter, you're really not helping right now," Mickey muttered.

"What's the matter, huh?" The redhead continued to smirk and hovered in a lying down position. "Scared?"

"It's not funny, Peter!" the black mouse snapped.

However, Basil ended the argument with "Yes, I am."

Peter looked surprised that he had actually admitted it.

"But I'm just gonna have to get over it, aren't I?"

Swallowing, he forced himself to look down. He swallowed dryly and started to sweat.

* * *

_He didn't want to die like this! He wanted to live just a little longer, solve a few more of Mousedom's interesting puzzles. _**He didn't want to die like this!**

_He noticed that he had held on to the piece of Ratigan's balloon. Maybe he could…!_

_He latched onto the tail piece and placed his feet on the pedals. If this didn't work, he was done for! He pedaled for his life, hoping against all odds for a miracle…_

_And gravity lost its hold on him._

_

* * *

_  
That sensation of being about to fall any second started to leave him. His breathing evened out.

"You doing okay?" Mickey asked, concerned.

Basil looked at the other mouse before nodding, mouth too dry to speak for the moment. Forcing himself to relive that fall had helped somewhat.

"You wanna try again?"

He nodded more firmly this time. He released the black mouse's hand, feeling the other release him simultaneously.

Peter remained quiet, most likely due to the rather powerful glare Mickey was sending his way.

'_Thank you.'_

Basil drifted forward before putting a little more effort into it. Focusing more on that happy thought seemed to help.

He flew forward, Mickey matching pace easily. Peter swooped in front of them, grinning mischievously.

"Last one to Neverland's a codfish!" the boy hollered before angling towards a particularly bright star, Tinkerbell at his side.

Basil leaned out of the way of Pluto who barked and flew between the two mice. Watching the eager dog made him smile. Maybe flying wasn't so bad after all.

"So, what's your happy little thought?" Mickey asked casually.

Basil glanced at him. "What's yours?"

"My secret." An impish grin on the exiled king's face.

An equally impish grin on the Summons's face. "Then I guess mine is a secret, too."

Mickey stuck his tongue out at him.

"I'm guessing that there was a reason for this."

"Uh huh. Glide lets you jump farther, so that could come in handy later."

The Summons continued following Peter, not once taking his eyes off of the star. "But if I go back to the Realm, I'll lose it."

"Maybe. Maybe not. Nobody's ever really tried to see if Summons can be changed."

The tan mouse nodded his head. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah. Can't hang around here forever."

They pulled into a hover, called goodbye to Peter and Tinkerbell (along with a reminder to not alert anyone of their presence), and then transported up the ship.

* * *

As Mickey settled into the pilot's chair, he hummed lightly to himself. That had gone remarkably well. 

Picking a direction at random (any way would do at this point since they really had no idea which way to go), Mickey pulled out of the Neverland world's orbit.

He watched Basil pet Pluto out of the corner of his eye.

"_So, what's your happy little thought?"_

A chance to leave the castle and all of the ridiculous pomp and circumstance of royal life behind. To be out _here,_ roaming about and seeing what the universe had to offer. That was his happy little thought.

The best part was that it was real and it came with a little something extra.


End file.
